No One Does
by JinxedJaguar
Summary: No one ships Persooch. No one. So then why did I fall in love with Preston? [Persooch, theNoochM, TBNRfrags]


I fell deeply in love with Preston. He was always on my mind and I honestly didn't know how to handle it. After all, I was only 20 and had no idea what love was.

For a long time, I considered confessing to him. I just wanted to tell the truth: that I was gay and I liked him. At the same time, I didn't. Whenever someone is serious about ships, he always angrily tells them that he's straight. For all I know, he could be homophobic and then I'd never get to talk to him again.

But one day, it all came slipping out.

I was just playing some MC with Preston, not recording, and somehow the topic of our fandom ships came up.

"Have you heard of Woofmit, Mat?" Preston asked.

"Who is that? Rob and…" I trailed off, waiting for Preston to answer.

"Kermit. It's Rob and Kermit," he finished for me.

"Really? They never even really record though!" I said.

"Yeah, it's kinda like SetoSolace, MunchingUniverse, and Skyrome. The ships are really cute, but they're far off of ever becoming real –they probably don't even know each other well!" Preston added. Then he continued, "Speaking of never happening, have you heard of Persooch or PoochM?"

Of course I knew. A little while after I found out my feeling towards Preston, I wanted to know what the fans saw between us. Sometimes the fans were crazy, but sometimes the fans knew more about us than we knew about ourselves. Much to my disappointment, there was a very limited supply of Persooch.

Although there were only a few, the fanfictions I read made me super depressed. Not even the angst ones, but the happy ones. They made everything, every chance of IRL Persooch more distance. And Preston's comment didn't help.

_That hurt… Never happening? Can't I dream and at least let me have false hopes? Let me pretend that one day I'll have my love for you returned, _I thought.

"What was that?!" Preston said.

"What was what?" I asked.

"You just said something… about fudging unreturned love. You weren't whispering, but you weren't using your normal talking voice," he answered.

I said that out loud. I just borked everything. I could try to convince Preston that he just heard things, but he's a stubborn person who had good hearing.

"I didn't say anything," I lied. When did I decide that? I guess I wasn't that bad of an actor. Haven't you seen my "Goodbye" April Fools' video?

"I know that I heard something –I'm not insane! The only insane one is you!" Preston insisted.

"If I did say something then what did I say?" I challenged.

"I already told you! You responded to 'Persooch' by saying that you were sad it wasn't real!" Preston pushed. He sounded pretty angry.

"…I… Um…"

"You know, just be honest with me. What did you say? It won't change anything," Preston sighed, his tone now soft.

"I… I have a crush on you, okay? I understand that you'll never love me back, too," I admitted. He stayed quiet for a little while after that.

"Sorry," he said quietly.

"For what?" I asked just as quiet.

"You were honest, so I'll be honest too. I don't love you back. It probably hurts more now that I actually say it. But can we still be friends? I'm not homophobic or anything!" Preston rushed out.

He was right. It hurt. It hurt a lot facing the reality. It's worse than it sounds. Everything felt like a dream until that moment. It's like everything was just some stupid romance story I was creating in my head until I realized that it wasn't my imagination.

"M-Mat? Are you okay?" Preston asked hesitantly.

"Yeah. I'm fine," I lied. When could _anything_ ever be fine again?

* * *

I couldn't stand it anymore. I still hadn't gotten over Preston. I knew there were better ways to cope with it, but did I really have that time? Why not fix it all now? I found a kitchen knife and ran into the bathroom.

1) No one wants to be around a freak like me.

2) No one likes people who always complain.

3) No one like jags.

4) No one like YouTube wannabes.

5) No one like hopeless romantics.

* * *

13) No one ships Persooch.

No one does. No one ever has, no one ever will. Because Preston deserves 1 million times better. Because I'll never be enough for anyone, especially not him.

I started to feel lightheaded. Thirteen doesn't seem like many cuts, but I progressively cut deeper. It surprised me how deep I got, seeing as I was a wimp (which was _very_ deep).

As everything was fading to black, I heard screaming, yelling, and quick footsteps. I kind of saw people rushing around, but everything was a blur. I swear I saw the brown-eyed, brown-haired Texan before it all disappeared.

* * *

I bolted upright from wherever I was laying. I scanned the room, but nothing was familiar. I looked at my arms, but there weren't any scars. What confused me most was that Preston was lying next to me.

Then I remembered everything. I just had a nightmare. Preston and I were happily dating. We lived in the same house in Canada. We had enough when we were together.

Preston started moving around. He finally turned towards me. "Are you okay, babe?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I answered. I was so relieved that none of that was real.

"Wait, you were crying," he said, holding my face in his hands.

"It was just a nightmare. A horrible, horrible nightmare," I said.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Preston asked, setting his arms down.

And I told him everything. Both of us cried during it. Neither of us could help it. Because no one ships Persooch. No one but the two of us, the people who create Persooch. Because both of us are no one. But two negatives make a positive, so surely two nobodies make a somebody. So maybe, after all, someone _does_ ship Persooch.


End file.
